‘Are you heading in the same direction as me?’
‘I am. I thought I might get some sticky buns and one of Martha’s hot coffees to take away.’ He sent her a quick glance. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help me eat them—I didn’t have breakfast and I missed out on lunch with being called out so early this morning. It’s lazy of me, I know, but I can’t be bothered to go back home and cook.’
Her green eyes widened a fraction. ‘It’s the middle of the afternoon,’ she said in astonishment. ‘You ought to know better than to go without food in our line of work.’
He nodded, his mouth making a crooked line. His whole countenance changed when he smiled, and her heart gave a small lurch. ‘Consider me told off,’ he said. ‘How about the buns? Do you want to share?’
‘Okay.’ She pushed open the door of the shop and a bell jangled to alert Martha, the proprietor, to her customers. ‘But I’ll go one better than that. Why don’t you come over to my place and I’ll heat up some soup and warm some bread rolls in the oven? Then you can have the buns for afters. I only live about five minutes’ walk from here.’ The suggestion was out before she had time to consider whether she was wise to get in closer contact with this man who had haunted her, metaphorically speaking, ever since her change from teenage brat to emerging womanhood.
‘Well, that’s too good an offer to miss … if you’re sure?’ His brow creased. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’
‘It’s no bother. But if you were to collapse through malnutrition, I wouldn’t want to have it on my conscience.’ She gave him an admonishing glance and he laughed.
‘Thanks, Sarah. Besides, I’m curious to see where you’re living now. I heard you’d bought a place, rather than renting. That sounds enterprising, coming from a girl who wanted to be free as a bird and explore new pastures.’
‘Hmm.’ Her cheeks flushed with warm colour. ‘I was very young and naïve when I came out with that statement.’ She’d been brash, full of youthful defiance, keen to let him know that she wouldn’t be staying around for much longer. In truth, in her mind, she’d been running away. Her mouth made an odd twist. ‘It’s actually not up to much, and I think you might be quite disappointed when you see it. I know I was, but I was already contracted to buy it.’
He gave her a perplexed glance. ‘You mean you bought it without seeing it?’
‘That’s right. It came up for auction and I didn’t have time to suss it out before putting in an offer. It was just about as much as I could afford.’ She lifted her arms in a futile gesture. ‘And I was in a bit of a hurry.’
‘It sounds like it.’
‘Can I help you?’ Martha bustled forward, ready to serve them, her face creasing in a smile. ‘Have you managed to sort yourself out, my dear?’ she queried gently, looking at Sarah. ‘You did quite a bit of stocking up last time you were in here, didn’t you? I must say, you don’t look quite as harassed as you did then.’
‘I think it’s all beginning to work out,’ Sarah answered cheerfully. ‘You had pretty well everything I needed to get me started with the cleaning and so on … but I just want a few bits this time around.’
Martha collected together everything off Sarah’s list, and she and James left the shop a few minutes later, loaded with packages. James was munching on one of the buns he’d bought.
‘Here, let me carry those for you,’ he said, relieving her of a couple of bags. He peered inside them. ‘There are a lot of vegetables in here for just one young woman.’
‘Ah … perhaps you didn’t know …’ She sent him a quick, sideways look. ‘I’m not on my own these days.’
‘You’re not?’ His step halted momentarily and he frowned, glancing at her ring finger and then, seeing that it was bare, said, ‘Have I missed something? Are you involved with someone?’
‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ She walked determinedly up the hill towards her cottage.
He sent her a puzzled look, but they’d reached her house by now and she stood still, looking up at the blotchy, white-painted building with its peeling woodwork. ‘This is it. This is where I’m living now.’
He stared, his gaze moving up to the roof where a few slates were cracked or missing altogether. To his credit, he managed to keep a straight face as he said slowly, ‘I think you might have your work cut out here.’
She laughed. ‘You said it … but that’s nothing. Wait till you see the inside.’ She’d already reinforced his view that she was as reckless as ever, buying on impulse, so what did it matter if he looked around and saw the pitiful state it was in?
They walked along the drab hallway to the kitchen, where he set the bags and packages down on the pine table. He glanced thoughtfully around the room for a moment or two, taking in the flaking ceiling and the windows that hadn’t seen a lick of paint for quite some time.
‘The cupboards and worktops look as though they’re made of solid wood,’ he commented after a while. ‘I suppose they could be stripped back and restored to their original condition—or painted, depending on how you feel about it.’
‘Hmm. Yes, you’re right. I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to do yet.’ She smiled at him. He was being positive, and that made her feel much better. ‘I’ll put the soup on a low heat, and the rolls in the oven, and I could show you around the place while they’re warming up, if you like?’
He nodded. ‘Sounds good to me. Can I do anything to help? Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘Okay, thanks. Mugs are over there, cutlery in the drawer.’
They worked together for a while, and then she took him on a whistle-stop tour of the three-bedroomed cottage, pointing out the best features, where she was able to find any.
‘I knew the structure of the house was reasonably sound when I bid for it,’ she told him, ‘because Murray, my neighbour, is a good friend, and he knew about the property—from a layman’s point of view, of course.’
‘Ah … I see … I think.’ He hesitated. ‘Have you known him long?’
She nodded. ‘For years, though of course we’ve been out of touch until recently. He’s been a great help to me.’ They were in one of the bedrooms, and she waved a hand towards the small fireplace. ‘I’m not sure quite what to do about that. As you’ve seen, there’s a fireplace in each of the three bedrooms.’ She frowned. ‘They say you should keep any character features like that if at all possible when you’re renovating, but they don’t look too good at the moment, and anyway I’m wondering if the rooms might be a bit chilly with the open chimney.’
He shook his head. ‘The chimney shouldn’t make any difference, and from the looks of things you have central heating, which should keep everything cosy. I think it would be a good idea to keep them. The house is Victorian and pretty solid in most respects, and it would be a pity to lose its character. It should be a fairly straightforward job to renovate them—you have to get rid of any rust, of course, apply a coat of red oxide and then when that’s dry rub in some black grate polish. It doesn’t come off once it’s done, and the fireplace will look as good as new.’
‘You’re probably right.’ She was thoughtful. ‘I’ll put it on my list of things to do—it’s getting to be quite a long list.’
‘I could do it for you, if you like.’
She blinked in astonishment. ‘You’d do that?’ She was completely bowled over by his unexpected offer. Why would he want to spend time doing anything at all in this old, neglected house? And why would he do it for her?
‘I think it’s something I would enjoy.’ He went over to the fireplace and ran his fingers lightly over the partially engraved cast iron. ‘I often did restoration work in the family home, don’t you remember?